


Forever And Ever

by Snowbazzz_lyf



Series: When All Was Said and Done [5]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: And this fic is just me being a mess, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, I have no regrets, M/M, Simon and Baz are old, just a little fluff, like really old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-09 23:44:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20518427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowbazzz_lyf/pseuds/Snowbazzz_lyf
Summary: “Can I go where you go?Can we always be this close?Forever and ever.”





	Forever And Ever

**Author's Note:**

> This is like really fucking sad. Brace yourselves. Also the ending is bittersweet so idk, enjoy, I guess?

**BAZ**

_Can I go where you go?_

Holding Simon's hand is something I have done all my life and I never tired of it. I held his hand when he had become a shadow of his former self after the incident at White Chapel. I held his hand whenever he would wake up from a nightmare and would be terrified. I held his hand when he got skittish and nervous and he needed to calm down. I held his hand when he needed comfort and warmth. Right now, I am holding his hand because _I_ need comfort.

Though I don't know for how long I will get it. The hospital walls are oppressingly white and the monitor that beeps is getting on my nerves. It's too much for me, and my sensitive ears. But I am not leaving Simon, not until I have to.

His hands are pale, so pale. They used to be the colour of gold once. His skin is wrinkled and loose and soft, but I don't like the softness. His hair, which used to be a beautiful shade of bronze once, is now white and most of it has fallen off, some wispy patches left. He still has his moles and I still love them. His eyes are blue too, I know they will never change. They are closed right now. I don't think I would be able to see them open again. Not that he is dead.

No, he is not dead. Not _yet_. But soon, he would be. He is too thin, too sick, to recover. He is eighty eight now, I don't expect him to recover. I don't know if he will see the sun rise tomorrow. He liked to do that, see sunset and sunrise with me. I used to grumble about it, but he knew that I loved it secretly. I smile at the memory, my chapped lips stretching like a reptile, probably.

I aged gracefully, as Simon would whine, though I think I'm just as wrinkled and frail like him. Atleast my hair didn't fall off completely, though it's completely grey now. My eyelids are droopy, and the youngest of my grandchildren like to say that it makes me look like a pug. I try not to feel too offended.

I had been so relieved when I realised I wasn't immortal, I had actually wept. Apparently, only vampires who drink human blood are immortal and since I never even touched it, I wasn't. For me, mortality meant that Simon wouldn't have to grow old without me. That even though he might leave me one day and I'd have at least _something_ to grasp onto. It meant everything to me, that Simon and I would grow old together, spend our entire lives together. And we did that.

We lived a life that was so blissfully normal and happy. When I look back at it, I have no regrets. I lived a life that was good. There are so many happy memories in there, like the day Simon asked me to marry him, the day we got married, when we got Elio, then Silena, how they grew up to be the wonderful individuals they are, our grandchildren. There is sadness too, like the time our marriage had almost fallen apart once, when Elio had got into an abusive relationship that left him scarred for life, the day Fiona had died, the day Mordelia had died when she was seventy. It's a life. A life lived and loved.

Now Simon is going and I don't want him to go. I have spent almost my entire life with him, I have got everything that I wanted. We lived together, and that's what I had wished for. Is it selfish that I don't want him to go? That even though I have spent years with him, I crave for more? Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I don't know.

I glance over at Simon, and there is a sinking feeling in my chest. It hurts me to look at him, so small and weak. Even though the bed he is lying on is no bigger than the bed we had at Watford, it still feels too large for Simon. He looks awfully thin and sick and my heart bleeds when I see him like this.

I don't want him to leave. I want to be with him. Forever.

_Can we always be this close?_

On an impulse, I retrieve my hand from his and then climb in beside him, my joints complaining like the shitheads they are. As I snuggle close to him, I realise that despite everything, he is still warm as ever. My very own personal heating system. I place my head over his chest gently, where I can listen to his heartbeat, which is soft but persistent. It's a bit uncomfortable, his ribs are prominent, but I am not moving from here. I love to listen to his heartbeat, just another reminder of how alive he is. One of my hands are around his waist, the other is awkwardly squished next to him. It's wonderful.

I close my eyes and feel him inhale and exhale, not knowing which is going to be the last one. The fear is driving me almost mad but the irony is that it's Simon and his warm, comforting body that's keeping me sane.

Pulling me in and pushing me out, that's how he has always been.

A tear trickles down my cheek as I try to imagine living the next few years without him. Not waking up with him and watching the sun rise, drinking tea, bickering over small things like kids, laughing over silly jokes, making sure the other is taking their meds, whining about joint pains and squinting over books. It's horrible. I don't want that life.

It may not be that bad, I may be happy but I don't want to be. Not without Simon. Maybe it's stupid. Or maybe it's just that I have always been so stupidly in love with him, the idea of living without him _terrifies_ the fuck out of me.

He must be so tired though. I think he is holding on only because of me. And even though I don't want him to go and just always want him to be here with me, selfishly, I also don't want him to suffer. Not at all. Maybe he should let go.

“Hey, Snow.” I whisper, lifting my head slightly, looking at his open mouthed face (He has always been a mouth breather) and feeling another tear roll down my cheek, which I wipe away quickly.

“I just- I just wanted to say that you are the most annoying person on this planet and you were the worst Chosen One ever to be chosen. That your eating habits disgust me and your puns make me want to die. That your morning breath is revolting and your fashion sense is atrocious.” As I speak, a sob escapes me and the words are catching in my throat more than once. I don't know if he can hear me, but I will just ramble. I will tell him everything. “Yet, I still love you. I love you so much, because you are so brave and so strong and so- so beautiful. You were the sun, you _still_ are and I kept on crashing into you. I kept on holding to you. You kept on holding to me. I need you, I still do but...”

I take in a shuddering breath, and exhale just as shakily. This is the toughest part.

“But, you can stop now. You can stop holding to me and life and go on. You carried on for so long, and now you can rest. Just rest, Simon. Just rest.”

The tears won't stop and I don't bother to wipe them away as I kiss his jaw and then rest my head on his chest, closing my eyes, still listening to his gradually receding heartbeat.

**PENELOPE**

I enter Simon's room to find stillness. The monitor has stopped beeping. There is nothing. Nausea sweeps over me as I approach him slowly, my vision already blurring with tears.

Baz is lying close to him, head on his chest, dried stains of tears on his face but mouth curved into the smallest of smiles. He is still. Eerily still.

_Fuck_.

Panic rises in my throat as I shake him, feeling slightly hysterical and when he doesn't respond, I grab his wrist, which is limp and my hands are shaking violently. Nothing. I feel nothing.

I sink down on the chair nearby, unable to believe this turn of events just as a nurse comes in. He looks alarmed as he sees the monitor and then me.

“Ma'am? Please relax-”

“I'm fine.” That's the biggest lie I've said till date.

“Water? Do you need water?”

“Nothing just-”

I shake my head, burying my face in my hands and take in a deep breath trying to steady myself. The nurse has approached them and I hear him inhale sharply and then mumble, “Oh no.” as he probably discovers Baz. I try not to burst into helpless tears.

I always knew they'd go together. I knew it. _Hopeless fucking romantics_, the pair of them.

Simon and Baz, idiots in love, from 2015 till eternity. Bless them, those two morons. Couldn't ever leave the other alone.

And I smile then, even though I am hurting from the inside, two of my closest friends just died, but I smile because at least they can be sappy together wherever they are.

_Forever and Ever._

**Author's Note:**

> And I have ruined this cute fluffy song for me because I am me. Anyways, the chapter title is taken from the lyrics of Lover by Taylor Swift
> 
> [Look I am a huge fan of her and I just really love her new album and I know I have already done a fic on a song from Lover but like I said, I am a huge fan so let me live]


End file.
